


Bounds and Inches

by hinataisnothim (afwrit)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Implied Sexual Assault, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afwrit/pseuds/hinataisnothim
Summary: A series of drabbles and ficlets set during Super Danganronpa 2.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Owari Akane, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Day 1: Blue Ram

**Author's Note:**

> Probably will go back and edit these at the end of October, but I hope you enjoy

Komaeda had a favorite drink.

The name sounded odd, like a spoof or parody of something he couldn’t quite place, but he supposed it was fitting. It was a lightly carbonated drink with enticing packaging. The named chemicals engraved on the aluminum were nice to feel and frightening to read, yet he ignored that. Surely he was much too stupid to know that, and if Hinata had given it to him, it was safe.

_ (And Komaeda always kept Hinata-kun’s gifts, no matter how haphazardly they were given.) _

The beach lulled in front of him, the moon reflecting off of the ocean. Nagito saved gifts for when he needed them, and tonight was no exception. 

He pushed the tab down and cracked the can open. 

The carbonation hissed up into the air and he caught the scent of something faintly raspberry. The scent sent him back to a fuzzy, faint far-away time when the world was larger and his parents took him by the hand to some large event. The drinks they had served there had a similar smell. He wasn’t allowed to have them at the time. 

It was still admirable how Hajime made a half-hearted attempt to collect the Hope Fragments. Inspiring, even. This particular gift (which he didn’t deserve, never let that go unnoted that he should want for nothing because even the scraps given to him are a waste—) was from their third encounter. 

Something inside Nagito’s chest twisted.

He took a sip. The artificial blue syrup simmered on his tongue, the bubbles popping before he swallowed. 

In spite of the chill of the hour, his entire face was rosy and pink, lacking its odd discoloration. The island wind brought humidity with it, puffing up his hair even more, which was already luminous like a halo from the light of the moon. His jacket was beneath him, a makeshift beach towel as he dipped his toes into the sand. 

It was a perfect night. Something must be wrong. 

_ (That’s thinking. No more thinking for tonight.) _

He took another sip. 

Komaeda has found Hinata had an odd reaction to the beverage. Whenever he drank it, it gave him energy rather than calmed him down. Hinata was full of oddities, from the hobble he called a run to the cursory glances he gave at the ocean before it all went to hell. 

Komaeda thought about Hinata a lot.

Then he thought about the plan. How in the pocket of his jacket lay a note warning Togami that the killing game would start.

He smiled.

Sip. 

Sometimes it was better to forget. 


	2. Day 2: Chocolate Chip Jerky

Owari Akane was hungry.

She wouldn’t have it any other way, either. Hunger was a constant companion in both a literal and metaphorical sense, not that she put much stock into metaphors. Stock was only good in soups.

Soup was good.

But it wasn’t mealtime. Instead, it was time for her exercises. The asphalt lot outside of the diner gave her shoes the perfect amount of grip and pull she was used to, even if she couldn’t articulate that. The beach was a good place for a jog, but the sand always found her way into her shoes (Akane didn’t wear socks, an entirely unnecessary piece of clothing in her mind) and the wind stung her face. Something something, friction. Meanwhile, the diner had good smells. The association: chain link fences, trash drifting across the lot, and the whiff of gasoline that brought back a soothing headache. All Owari knew was that the pavement felt right, and her sneakers would always catch underneath her.

Even still, she was still hungry.

Hunger manifests in many different ways. Her hunger for food came from a place of desperation and energy, but her hunger for competition was the true burn in her gut. There was a difference between survival and living, and when she was moving, she was living. It didn’t matter what the motivations of her coaches were, it didn’t matter who she was or where she had come from—all that mattered was how far she could push herself.

Bodies are meant to be used, no matter how they’re in use.

She shook her head, then cracked her neck. It was time for the run-up. She finished off her snack and tucked the empty bag into her shirt pocket. If it weren’t for the no littering rule, she would have tossed it over her shoulder.

When Hinata tossed her some chocolate chip jerky, her eyes lit up. Before he’d given her a bottle of mineral water, which while nice, felt more like a desperate reach for something among his MonoMono winnings that she would enjoy than a meaningful gift. The jerky was a surprise. She was no stranger to unusual food combinations. In the dump, when she’d cook for her siblings—by blood or not—she didn’t have the luxury of scrounging for fancy ingredients. The best grub was composed of crazy flavors, extremes on both ends mushed together.

Sufficiently warmed up, it was time for the roundabout.

“Why do you like that?” He had asked as she greedily chomped down the rich treats. Her original answer was drowned out by her full mouth. 

Akane started her run.

“I dunno. ‘S good,” was all she could say after swallowing.

She didn’t know how to explain how it felt heavy, grounding. The thick taste of the semisweet sauce coated her tongue in a way that mimicked being parched on a hot summer’s day.

Hinata had let her go off on her own, either unable to keep up or torn in too many different ways. Akane shrugged and rubbed the chocolate off her chest. 

So she was crass, so she lacked class. So what?

She landed her backwards somersault.

At least it tasted good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a Twitter now! @afwrit, I'm fairly active. I know these are late but I'm going to steamroll them.


End file.
